Holla Back NYC empowers New Yorkers to Holla Back at street harassers. Whether you're commuting, lunching, partying, dancing, walking, chilling, drinking, or sunning, you have the right to feel safe, confident, and sexy, without being the object of some turd's fantasy. So stop walkin' on and Holla Back:
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Wednesday, January 18, 2006

Welcome to Paris

During a weekend visit to Paris (my first), my friends and I patronized the depicted establishment called the Frog and Princess in St Germain des Pres. It was all fun and fine, we were dancing, drinking, and having a good time until I needed to go to the bathroom. Upon my return, I had to make my way through a tightly packed bar area and noticed sort of uncomfortably that it was the ultimate sausage fest. I had to squeeze myself against and through bodies and bodies of young, drunk males. I had almost made it out of the thicket when I felt a smarting slap on my ass. I stopped and turned around only to see a group of young men pretending not to notice me until the douchebag who appeared to be the perpetrator (due to his convenient butt-slapping position in the crowd) and his friends started cracking smiles and laughing. I couldn't think of anything nasty to say in French so I just gave the jerk my big fat fucking middle finger right in his face, turned around (w/o butt grab this time) and fought my way back to my friends. Upon being informed of the offensive incident, they said sympathetically, "Welcome to Paris." It appears that the French need a bigger overhaul of their society than they ever expected. Watch out, there might be a Holla Back Paris!

The Universal Language

This Dude encountered me on the Subway last night. He was wolf whistling and grunting and gesturing. When I realized that he wasn't having a seizure and was trying to get my attention, I asked him if I could take his photo. He replied that he, "no speak english." I guess sexual harassment is the Universal Language Dude.-Lauren

Tuesday, January 17, 2006

Classy Georgia

This goes back a while (when cell phones were still the size of a cinderblock so a camera phone was out of the question) but is still fresh in my memory because it was so ... uh, special.

My best friend Betty and I were stopped at an intersection in Asheville, NC waiting for a light to change when we noticed to two fine gentlemen in the truck across the intersection signaling their clear admiration of our great intellect and beauty by sharing the international sign for WE WANT TO SCREW YOU: the finger of one hand poked assertively through a circle made by the thumb and forefinger of the other hand. Classy! Their dopey, leering grins only added to the charm of the whole situation.

Unfortunately, Betty and I were unable to take advantage of this glorious opportunity because WE'RE NOT STUPID.

Saturday, January 07, 2006

Easily Distracted

I live on a major street in Oakland, and for whatever reason I can't leave my front door on foot without getting harassed at least once on my way to Point B. I love this city, so it really bums me out that this is the case. The most frightening was when I walked under the highway overpass and not one but TWO cars tried to pull up next to me within a minute of each other.

The worst incident in recent memory happened in a yuppified neighborhood north of here. I had just gotten off the train and was on my way to work. I was very hungry and the supermarket was a few blocks away, but I found a Tootsie Pop left over from Halloween in my bag, so I thought, "This will hold me until I can get some real food."

So there I was, eating my Tootsie Pop and thinking cheerful thoughts when some asshole walking towards me interjected, "I'll give you someting to suck on, baby." I was stunned. I couldn't believe it. As soon as I realized what he had said, I turned and threw the sucker at him as hard as I could. It didn't hit him, but I couldn't have gone on eating it after that.

Tuesday, January 03, 2006

Tequila Worms

Austin, TX: Pounding margaritas at around noon on this outdoor restaurant patio, these threelarval harassers struggled to assert their "masculinity" in bragging to each other about their fake IDs.Degenerating into piglike grunting while straining their scrawnyass necks to leer at a woman jogging by, they proceeded to loudly appraise the breast and ass size of other passers-by.Yamaha hollered at the jogger somewhat sheepishly, while Napoleon Dynamite's trollish twin tried hard to outdo him before changing the subject back to his (undoubtedly huge)peepee.They didn't appreciate our loud derision, and turned up the raunch factor with their gynecological expertise.

Drink up boys! Maybe your livers will do us all a favor and shut down.